Numb
by mskairijade
Summary: Harry's feelings during the final battle, a bit AU: not really following Deathly Hallows


The night air was thick. Fog swirled all around the darkness surrounding the castle in the distance. There were distant screams and cries coming from the castle on the hilltop. The final battle was deep underway and Harry Potter was alone and scared in the Forbidden Forest on the outskirts of Hogwarts. He knew that they were awaiting him, holding off the Death Eaters as long as they could until he got there to finish it off.

Sitting on the edge of the lake, holding the Elder Wand in his fingers, he felt his nerves ascending again. For seven long years now, ever since he first discovered who he really was, his life has been lived for everyone but himself. The years that should have been the best of his life were instead butchered by death and baffling riddles and some stupid prophecy. Everyone expected so much out of him. 'The Boy Who Lived'. He was sick of being that boy. He just wanted to be Harry, not the savior of the entire world.

Sighing deeply, he knew that no matter how he felt, he couldn't just leave them to die. If they 'needed' him then he would have to go. Standing, he took a deep breath and began the long walk to the castle where the battle was blazing.

_I'm tired being what you want me to be_

_Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface_

_I don't know what you're expecting of me_

_Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes_

_(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_

_Every step that I take is another mistake to you_

_(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_

As he got closer to the castle, he could see small battles going on randomly all over the grounds. He felt as if it were all moving in slow motion. A couple Death Eaters or wannabe's (meaning the younger generation) came rushing at him and he easily averted them, as if his wand was moving on its own accord. His heart wasn't in the battle, his mind was already on the afterwards. He didn't' know whether he would survive, and parts of him almost didn't care if he did or not. What would his life be like if he did win? A few more enemies suddenly cornered him a few yards from the doors and he fought with them, once again his body moving on its own.

The battle raged on , bodies falling all around. Curses and anti-curses flying every which way. Screams and growls and cries of pain echoed all around him. They were right near him and yet they seem distant, like it was almost a dream. He couldn't seem to feel anything, his body moving in slow motion by itself, his mind gone. He continued to battle his way to the castle, all the while feeling as if he was floating through the battle, watching from the outside rather than engaging in it.

_I've become so numb_

_I can feel you there_

_Become so tight_

_So much more aware_

_I'm becoming this_

_All I want to do_

_Is be more like me and be less like you_

All of his life, it felt as if someone else was running it for him. Telling him what to do, how he should act, where he should go, even who he should be friends with. Pushing him in every direction except the one he really wanted to be in. Sure he had Hermione and Ron but really, he wondered sometimes, were they really there for the right reasons or simply because they felt bad for him or wanted part of his "glory"? He wasn't smart enough or strong enough or even skilled enough to have lasted this long if it hadn't been for either of them. Hermione had always been there to tell him what to do or where to go. And Ron, well Ron had always just been there. But everyone else, everyone else in his life was always pushing him and coddling him. Even Dumbledore had held him in the dark about so much for so long simply because he was afraid of hurting him, afraid he couldn't handle the truth. But then it turned out he was only being used, once again, to accomplish what Dumbledore never could. Harry was supposedly supposed to be this "great hero", but he was only himself. Clumsy and average, not greatly skilled or clever in any way.

_Cant you see that you're smothering me_

_Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control_

_Coz everything that you thought I should be_

_Has fallen apart, right in front of you_

_(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_

_Every step that I take is another mistake to you_

_(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_

_And every second I waste is more than I can take_

He finally made his way through the doors into the castle. He fought his way, fluidly, through the thick crowded battle to the Great Hall. He had to end this once and for all, even if it meant giving his own life. He was sick of living this way, being everyone's puppet. He was sick of doing everything that was "expected" of him. He just wanted it all to end. He wanted his life to finally be his own, without having to worry about when he'd be almost killed or when one of his friends would be killed because of him again. He immediately engaged himself in the battles surrounding the Hall. His arm still moved of his own accord, his body dodging curses and spells simultaneously without really thinking about it. Wizards and witches from both sides fell around the Hall but it didn't phase him. His mind was set on nothing and everything all at once. Nothing affected him, nothing phased him, nothing distracted him from the goal. To finish this pathetic excuse for a life and finally take back what should've been his all along.

As he neared the center of the Hall, it was almost as if the ocean itself parted. Those around him suddenly stopped dueling those they were fighting and everyone turned to watch. But Harry didn't notice any of this. All he saw was the one man, the one wizard, who made his life a living hell. Who made his life, from the time he was one year old, everyone else's. The one who took his life from him, even though he was still alive.

The next hour came and went in a blur, Harry barely even noticed that it was over. Voldemort lie on the floor of the Great Hall, lifeless, finally, in a crumpled heap. He vaguely could recall what had happened, but for some reason he didn't really seem to care. Those around him began to celebrate, surrounding him, congratulating him. But for Harry, it was still like a dream. He could barely hear a word that was said to him. He had no feeling about anything that had just happened. Hermione grabbed his shoulders, wrapping her arms around him tightly, but yet Harry felt nothing. He simply stared at the lifeless heap of a person lying a few feet away from him. He was still completely numb.

_I've become so numb_

_I can feel you there_

_Become so tight_

_So much more aware_

_I'm becoming this_

_All I want to do_

_Is be more like me and be less like you_

"It's over, Harry," Hermione said happily, joyful tears streaking down her face.

Harry just looked at her, finally prying his eyes away from the lifeless corpse. He looked deep into her eyes, almost searching for something, unsure of exactly what. He expected he should feel something. Finally, seemingly finding what he was looking for, the numbness faded and Harry smiled for the first time in over a year.

"Yeah, " Harry answered. "It is over."


End file.
